The unusual job
by witcheress
Summary: After Thief Reboot: Garrett gets a new job from Basso, a bit of unusual one. He's supposed to frame someone into something nasty- not his style, but he doesn't ask unnecessary questions. The job doesn't go exactly as planned... Oneshot for now, perhaps later I'll have an idea where to go with the story. Enjoy!
I

the unusual job

The job was nothing like his typical contracts, hell, nothing like any thief's typical contracts. While Garrett specialized himself in depriving men of their possessions, he imagined it would be quite similar to do the exact opposite. Now, he didn't want to start a charity, and he was almost entirely sure that his client neither. The object that was supposed to fall into someone's new ownership was most likely a thing that would put them, at the very least, in an awkward situation. What's more, the thief was actually supposed not to steal anything. That made the job even more intriguing.

No, this wasn't exactly his style. It was nothing like him. Still, he took the job. Even if he wouldn't admit that, he secretly liked the idea of framing someone into something nasty. If this was about any ordinary man in the City, even some of the worst Eelbiter scum from the docks, he'd have refused. But the man about to be set up was none other than the Thief-Taker General himself. And Garrett liked that, he liked that a lot.

When he had the opportunity to get rid of the General, he didn't take it. He never felt comfortable with the idea of taking somebody's life, but then, in the Hidden City, he simply chickened out. He wasn't sure if he could actually take down the General, bigger and certainly stronger than him. Of course Garrett was smarter, nimbler and in a better shape – no broken leg, for starts – however, these weren't the times when things went exactly as he wanted them to. On the contrary, actually, so he decided to simply steal the General's property from his pockets and fled the scene, leaving the enraged man cursing behind. It was the only time that stealing from someone didn't satisfy his need for revenge. Even after many nights passed, he still found himself wondering why he couldn't bring himself to kill his nemesis.

And then the client appeared. Basso didn't want to give away any details about them; he simply wanted to know if Garrett would take the job or should he find someone else to do it. Garrett didn't hesitate for a moment, but still, he was all too curious about the mysterious client. Who might have been brave enough to fund the fall of one of the most influential men in the City?

That and many other questions had to be left unanswered, at least for now. Garrett crouched on a rooftop, taking a moment to clear his thoughts. As always during the night he felt his senses sharpen, he felt focused, his eyes and mind entirely on the job. Subtle move and his face was covered by a cloth. Prepared to work, Garrett gracefully crept into the shadows wrapping the City.

The General had his house built among the nobles' villas of Dayport. The building towered over the smaller ones nearby, looked unwelcoming and heavily guarded. Garrett liked that. All of it was shouting _challenge_ so loud he could almost hear it. Good. If it was an easy job, any beggar could have done it for a heel of bread.

He visited the place couple of days ago and left a handful of useful tools he'd have use of now. A rope hung down near the balcony, making it a child's play to get into the first floor. Grabbing a bunch of arrows he hid in the flower bed, he made his way to the rope. Before climbing up, he stuck to the wall, his eyes watching carefully an approaching circle of light. He got acquainted with the most common ways the guards took and he was nearly sure the warden was no threat, as they never wandered into that part of the garden. Still, he felt his heart quickening when the man stopped for a second, something having caught his attention.

"Hey! Get out of there, you filthy dog!"

Garrett's breathing paused. _He couldn't possibly see me_ , he thought, trying even harder to merge with the wall. _I am invisible to him_.

"If you piss in the flowers, Mistress will have you for her breakfast!"

The flowers under the opposite walls swayed suddenly and a small, dark shape jumped out of it. Garrett felt himself flooded with relief. The guard had meant literally _a dog_ when he was talking earlier. The thief watched the man chase the silly little creature to the other side of the garden and when he felt safe, he decided to finally make his climb into the balcony.

The balcony door was closed. Not surprised, Garrett looked inside through the dirty glass. As suspected, there was nobody guarding this part of the house; the General must have preoccupied his men in some other place. The thief slid inside the house, carefully closing the door behind himself.

A soft, delicate carpet covered the floors, muffling the sounds of Garrett's footsteps. The corridor was left dark; even the moonlight couldn't get through the heavy red velvet curtains. Garrett noticed a light approaching from the distant side of the corridor. A maid, probably, with a candlestick. Not eager to find out, Garrett slipped behind a curtain and waited for the woman to pass. He heard more than one person's footsteps; there were two maids walking.

"...a shame, really. You have absolutely no right to talk like this. And sneaking out of the house like this? Your father won't like it." A little bit grating voice, a one of an older woman.

"You know how he is, don't you? And yet you take his side." Slightly hoarse, pleasant to one's ear voice responded. A young woman, no doubts.

"That's because he's your father, girl. And if he heard you talking this way, he'd have you flogged, his only heiress or not."

"I hate being his only heiress. I hate _him_."

"Hush!" A loud sound of a slap went through the corridor.

The footsteps gave off suddenly and Garrett realized the women stopped mere inches from him.

"How dare-"

"You don't understand, child", the older one hissed, "in what danger you put all of us when you speak like this and do such things. I do not wish to hear any more of this nonsense, or I swear to Gods, I'll go and squeal everything to your father myself. Are we clear, _Miss Harlan_?"

"Let go of me!" was the reply and noises of struggle reached Garrett's ears. "You act like no servant, Lucy", the girl was calm again. "Should something like this ever happen again, I will be the one reporting to my father. Give me the candle. I can see myself to my room on my own." Her voice broke a little at the end, but she managed to keep it steady. Garrett had a brief feeling on how this drama doesn't end for hours, but, fortunately for him, the older woman, the maid, wandered off with a bridle, her footsteps heavy and her pace quick. The younger one stood in her place for a moment and left, too, in the opposite direction.

 _So the General has a daughter._ The thought did actually surprise him. _He never seemed to be a fatherly figure._ He followed the girl upstairs, careful, so she didn't notice him. Apparently the girl was buried in her own thoughts so deep she didn't care to be aware of her surroundings. He stood behind the column and watched her slip into one of the bedrooms. He took a moment to recall the plans of the house. He was in the eastern corridor and he had to get to the study on the northern side. He had to go through a bedroom, then he'd take the short cut, passing the balconies, and then, finally, from another bedroom he needed to get inside the study. Piece of cake.

The first door he encountered was locked with an extremely easy to pick lock. He managed to open it in seconds and swiftly sneaked into the room, closing the doors behind him. The bedroom seemed empty. The fireplace was out, only a few coals glowed inside of it. He started to walk towards the window, when he heard a soft sigh. Alarmed, he fell on to the floor, looking for the source of it. His eyes scanned the room and he saw a silhouette lying curled on the bed. Cursing himself for not checking that earlier, he gently moved across the room, his blackjack in his hand, ready to react should the person wake up.

It was a woman. She could be twenty, maybe a year or two more. She laid on her side, her fingers clutching to a pillow as if she held on for her life. A few dark locks covered her face, but from what he saw, Garrett could tell she was attractive, maybe not his type attractive, but still. He shook his head. The lady slept deeply, and that was a good news for him. Carefully, he made his way to the balcony door. He cracked it open and slipped out of the bedroom, not caring to glance over to the sleeping woman. He left the door unclosed. It would be nice to have more than one way out when it came to escaping.

The other bedroom was empty, this time he made sure it was. Harshly decorated, the room must have belonged to a man. No woman would keep her chamber in such a state. There were only a few pieces of furniture: a huge bed, an armchair and a small cabinet located in the corner of the room. Garrett decided it must have been the General's bedroom, it fitted the man's grim personality. He felt his fingers itch. How powerful stealing from the General's _bedroom_ would feel? Nobody had ever even got in here, as the location of the Thief-Taker's house remained unknown to the common. Garrett clenched his fists, but then relaxed. Sometimes it's not about stealing. Sometimes it's about sending a message. And tonight, Garrett was the messenger.

He searched the wall for secret passages. One of the bricks seemed loose and, taking a quick look around for any signs of a trap, he pushed the brick in. As suspected, the cabinet moved slightly to the left, revealing a door locked with a safe combination. Garrett smirked. The client has provided him with the correct numbers, which was really rare. Calmly, he rotated the discs, choosing the sequence. When he finished, he heard a quiet click and a keyhole appeared, along with the sounds of ticking. Wasting no time, he stuck his lock picks into the hole, listening out for the muffled noise of a lock unlocking. Just before the time went off, he managed to unblock the mechanism. The ticking stopped and Garret slipped his picks into pockets in his gloves. He peeped through the keyhole to make sure nobody was inside – as if the sound of unlocking the door wouldn't have already alarmed them – and finally, he pushed the handle and slid into the study.

It was quite spacious, filled with endless columns of papers, books and files. Garrett glided through the place, careful not to touch any of the document towers; he didn't intend to leave any trace of his presence in here. Not this time. He got to the said point – a mahogany desk – and pulled out the second drawer. When the envelope with the compromising content was safely tucked between pages of some register, Garrett breathed a relief. The job wasn't over, but the hardest part of it was done. _I'll see myself out._

Closing the door behind him, he heard footsteps on the corridor outside the bedroom. He glanced over to the cupboard, which was sliding back into its place painfully slow, and without a second thought he slipped inside just in time to see the General lumbering into the room. He was dragging along a rather young Blossom and a heavy stench of digested alcohol.

Garrett moved back a little and then he realized his back leaned on something soft. And warm.

A person.

A hand sneaked to his mouth and another one he felt around his waist. It was pressing a knife to his side, just between the leather protection of his harness. Garrett cursed himself for not checking the place before getting inside of it.

"Keep quiet", he heard a gentle whisper. He would have managed out of the situation in seconds, hadn't he been stuck in this _bloody_ wardrobe. He observed the scene before his eyes, frantically looking for a way out of this ridiculous position.

"Please, Mr. General", the Blossom sobbed, trying to wriggle out of his iron grip, "please, I'm sure Madam won't like..."

"Shut up", the General slurred, throwing her on her bed. "Undress."

Garrett clenched his fists and when he did so, he felt a stir behind him.

"Can you help her?" again, the whisper in his ear. The woman was so small she had to pull his head back to reach his ears.

"If you let me go", he gritted through his teeth and her fingers, "I can see what I can do."

"Just don't kill him", he heard an uneven answer and then the dagger was gone and his mouth free. The General was too busy to notice what happened just behind his back; Garrett cracked the cabinet door open and sneaked up to the man. In one swift motion he knocked the man down. General fell to his knees, sighing softly, and then onto his bed, face down. The Blossom looked up, terrified, but saw no one; Garrett was already safe in the shadows. The young prostitute left the bed and went through the door, muffling her sobs. _Damned Madam, she keeps lowering the initiation age for Petals._

He glanced over to the cabinet. The woman jumped out of it and reached out to him.

"Wait!"

Garret smirked under his cloth and bowed his head.

"Good night", he said and pushed himself through a window. In a trice, he was gone.

oOo

Garrett woke up with a startle. The sky was already dark, it must have been past midnight or so. He rubbed his eyes. The nightmares kept haunting him for so long, he nearly got used to them. Nearly. Erin, the Primal, the abominations – he was seeing and living through it all over again, every night since he last saw his former protégée.

With a groan, he got up. He felt goosebumps over his skin. It was getting colder in the tower, an unmistakeable sign of winter approaching to the City. Stealing was always more difficult during the colder seasons, for the nobles were less likely to leave their homes and even if they did, the way to their houses through the snow was not the easiest one. Garrett has heard too many stories on the good thieves getting caught because of the stiff frostbitten fingers. On the other side, though, the winter nights were longer and people wearier, making it almost a child's play to lift a burden of their gold from their shoulders.

He rinsed his mouth with a gulp of water and washed his face. He thought he could as well wash himself with ice cubes, the water was so cold it caused him to shiver. If it wasn't for having to report to Basso, he'd never leave the warmth of his bed. Sighing heavily, he dressed up and hauled himself through the window.

It rained. The wind was piercing and Garrett immediately regretted leaving the maybe not warm, but at least dry interior of the clock tower. Luckily, the Crippled Burrick was not too far from his home. Few minutes later he turned up at Basso's door.

"Garrett? You never use the door", the fence was… surprised? Garrett frowned.

"I wanted to-"

"Wait a moment", Basso interrupted him, "I'm having a guest over. Give me two minutes." With these words, he pushed the utterly confused thief outside and shut the door.

"What?" Garrett said out loud in disbelief, standing in the downpour. Gritting his teeth, he went towards the window – which was _closed_ now, it never was _closed_ before – and tried to look inside through the steamy glass. He squinted his eyes. A small figure – a woman, probably – spoke in a loud voice, gesturing furiously. Basso stood at the opposite wall, gesturing as furiously as his guest, and after her especially loud answer, he yanked the door open and motioned for her to get out. When she stormed out, the fence slammed the door behind her so hard Garrett was surprised the poor worn wood had withstood the violence.

After a second Garrett decided to confront his friend. He slipped his fingers under the window's frame and lifted it up. Nimbly, he slid into the room and looked at Basso with anticipation, folding his arms.

"Well?" he said, when the fence kept quiet. Basso sighed and glared at him.

"I just spoke with our last client", he said. "She told me you screwed the job. You were seen by someone."

Garrett frowned.

"I was seen by someone who was hiding either. I didn't think she would give me away."

"Okay, Garrett. I want details. Is the package where it's supposed to be?"

The thief smirked.

"Of course it is. I'm not an amateur."

The fence was not convinced.

"Yet you've let yourself to be noticed. We've agreed you shouldn't have left any trace behind."

"And I didn't. Did she say who saw me?"

Basso sighed.

"General's daughter."

"That's interesting. I'd say she has a lot to hide. Word is she sneaks out at nights, conspires with the servants..." Garrett smirked on a sudden thought. "Wonder if your client isn't the General's daughter herself."

Basso looked frightened, his eyes opened wide. Garrett's smirk left his lips.

"What? Really?"

"Damn you, thief!" Basso growled through his teeth. "You can't know _who my clients are_ , damn you twice, it's so bloody unprofessional!"

Garrett felt the urge to laugh.

"So we're both amateurs now, aren't we, friend?" he chuckled, amused. "A thief who lets himself to be seen and the fence who gives away his client's identity. What a pair we are, Basso."

"I didn't give her identity away! You… you _guessed_ it, stupid asshole!"

"Not so stupid, then", Garrett mocked, ducking a vase flying towards him. Basso stood there for a moment, panting, and then he cackled, too. They chortled for a while like idiots, and when they finally calmed down, Basso gave Garrett a strange look.

"I haven't heard you laugh for a long time, Garrett", he said in a warm voice. "If knowing my client's names can make you laugh like this… You can know all of them, for all I care", he added quietly. Garrett shifted from one foot to another, feeling both grateful and uncomfortable. It was a strange feeling, he decided. Strange, but not unpleasant.

"Thanks, Basso. It's good to know."

The fence nodded and moved to his desk.

"Back to the business; another lady has visited me yesterday and she was rather interested in regaining her emerald necklace from a whore. Her husband was too generous when he visited the House of Blossoms last time, so the concerned wife would like to get back what's hers. A family heirloom, she said. Very precious."

Garrett acknowledged the fact with his head.

"The prostitute's name?"

Basso snorted.

"Dany. But I don't think she has it, you know. The Madam probably took it from her."

"Consider it done. I'll drop tomorrow with the necklace."

He was halfway out when he heard Basso's voice.

"Garrett?" He turned to see his friend's concerned face. "Please forget about that gal."

"I already have."

And he was gone.


End file.
